The Reaping
by thecakemasterofpanem
Summary: in Effie's POV


"This should be fun," Boreas, a train attendant said to me on our way to District 12. We were going there for another annual reaping, for I am the one to draw the names of the children who will compete. I grow so tired of being in this district, for there is no happiness to be found and I have to put up with Haymitch Abernathy, the victor of the 50th Hunger Games. This year is the 74th Hunger Games, and that means I have been in this business for twelve years. I don't understand of how time got away from me - I'm 34 years of age. I feel slightly useless. Oh well.

We pull into the train station - a rather run-down brick building with clouds of coal dust rising around it as the wind blows. Yuck. Boreas takes my luggage with one hand and my hand with the other, helping me off the train. I thank him and try not to kick up too much dust as I walk through the station and towards the Justice Building.

Everything seems to be falling apart. The little buildings and even smaller houses appear to be overly weathered. Not a soul except a few peacekeepers are in the square. I decide to examine the stage and climb up the concrete stairs, nearly tripping in my heels, which is unheard of in the Capitol. Mayor Undersee has emerged from the door in the Justice Building, and shakes my hand with a dead grin. A few residents of the district move along and place chairs on the stage. Mayor Undersee makes his way to one and slumps into it. I am once again reminded of how terrible it is that not one of these people have manners. I walk into the Justice Building and take a seat on a sofa, watching as more residents move about, trying to clean everything up.

Two hours later, I decide I can't stand the stuffiness and go out onto the stage and sit next to the Mayor. The whole time I was in there, I was trying to figure out how to put all my words into place, though nothing seemed to stick. I noticed that children and parents were beginning to come into the Square, and the look of desperation and fear on each individual's face. I feel a little sorry for them, but I'm not about to start questioning the decisions of the President.

Once there are few left to find their places, I stand carefully and walk to the podium in the center of the stage. I take a deep breath and begin to speak,

"Welcome! Welcome! The time has come for us to select one courageous man and woman to have the honor of representing District 12 in the 74th Annual Hunger Games. But, before we begin, you will view a very special film, coming all the way from the Capitol!"

I think to myself that the words will do well and mouth the words spoken in the film until it is over.

"Now, there is a man from District 12 that won a time ago ... and ... it appears that he was unavailable to come -"

"EFFFIIIEEEEE! SWEEEETHEEAART! HOWRRREEE DOOIINN?!"

Before I can react to Haymitch's call, he staggers towards me and attacks me with a massive hug. I can barely breath because it's so tight and he smells of liquor. He's clearly drunk.

I gather my will power and shove him away. He trips and plummets off the stage, head first.

Nobody moves to catch him. A moment of snorts goes by and I regain my focus, straightening my pink wig.

"Why don't we begin with the ladies?" Now the whole area is in complete silence. I feel akward but try not to show it. I make my feet walk towards the bowl for the girls, the only sound is that of my clicking heels, and what seems to be a breath of intake from the crowd. My hand fumbles around inside the bowl, and I finally choose a slip of paper from the middle. Content, I march back to the podium and undo the folded paper. I clear my throat and announce,

"Primrose Everdeen."

Heads turn to a little girl who looks only twelve, and she expresses a look of horror, then her face goes blank. Every head moves along with her slow steps and I attempt to lighten the air a little.

"Come on up, dear. Don't be shy." She is about halfway to the stage when another girl, appearing to be at least 16, pushes her way through the crowd, trying to stop the little girl. Peacekeepers attempt to keep her away when she screams,

"I VOLENTEER! I VOLENTEER!" The confused peacekeepers back away and look at me, so I confront the mayor about the situation. We speak a short moment, and I can hear the screams of what must be the younger one. I turn back and see a boy carry the younger girl away and the older one coming to the stage. I say,

"District 12's very first volenteer! Come on up!" Her face shows pain and strength at the same time. She approaches the podium and stands next to me, staring at the crowd. I turn to her, masking my uneasiness and asking, "What's your name?" She answers, barely audible,

"Katniss Everdeen." I understand now, but try to keep things light.

"I bet my buttons that was your sister. Wasn't it?"

"Yes." I think she might die on the spot. I say to the audience,

"Let's give a hand to our very first volenteer, Katniss Everdeen." I begin to clap and then stop because I notice no one else is clapping. Instead, all of them put three fingers to their lips and then hold them out to her. Things haven't lit up at all. Akwardly, I say, "Now for the boys," and cross to the other bowl. I take the first one I have my hand on and open it as I return to the podium. I say, "Peeta Mellark."

Once again, the heads turn, and a blonde-haired boy who looks like he's about to cry makes his way through the crowd and climbs the steps. Once he's next to me I announce,

"Your tributes from District 12, Peeta Mellark and Katniss Everdeen." Then I look between both of them and say, "Go on you two. Shake hands now." As they shake hands, he expresses pity and she continues to look blank. Then all of us flee the stage and board the train once more, this time going back to the Capitol.


End file.
